God's Gone AWOL

[10] Devil in Disguise

"Atticus, please tell me you're the actual homeowner of this place?" Frances said as they painted the lines of the spell across Atticus' wooden floor. "Cuz this probably qualifies as vandalism otherwise,"

The living room was almost completely unrecognizable. All of the furniture had been stacked up and pushed against the walls, and the white rug had been rolled up and tucked away somewhere. In the center of the floor, Atticus and Frances were busy drawing out the array and preparing the materials for the spell as Bentley instructed them. Her nose was folded in an old spell book as she lounged comfortably on the only remaining surface left in the entire room: the couch.

It hadn't taken too long to find a spell to trigger an out-of-body experience. Such things were so common that there were even holistic meditation blogs with their own advice on how to initiate one. However, Bentley needed something more powerful and specific than whatever suggestions the internet had to offer, so they turned to their usual source of information and dug through the old books until something came up.

"Alright, I think I've got the incantation memorized," Bentley said once the other two had finished off the array. "Are we all good to go?"

"Everything is ready, but..." Atticus paused for a moment. "Bentley, are you sure about all this?"

He didn't like the idea of her going into Purgatory alone. Although he had faith in her ability to deter conflict —he had watched her do it innumerable times before— he wasn't sure how well he would be able to handle the situation if something went wrong. He could trust Bentley, but he couldn't trust fate to be kind to her as it had failed too many times in the past. So he needed to ask just one more time before they started the spell.

"Not in the slightest," Bentley answered, reassuringly. "I doubt very much that anybody has ever tried this spell after dying and being resurrected, so I can't guarantee that my soul will get through to Purgatory. But now that things have gotten so complicated, we don't have much of a choice, do we?"

"How will we know if you're safe?" he asked.

"If I need to withdraw more divine energy, my physical body will probably be forced to shrink a little. If the soul is danger of dying —which it won't be because, you know, I can't die— then the body will start to fade. But despite all that, no matter what happens, under no circumstances are you to leave this house. Do you understand?"

Atticus frowned, and refused to give her an answer. With a little sigh of frustration, Bentley continued.

"I can't risk Camael getting her egotistical little hands on you. So no matter what, you need to stay here with Frances, okay?"

"I can't promise you that," he told her honestly

"Please?"

But Atticus merely shook his head. There was no way he would ever let her suffer any more than she already had. He had messed up so many times throughout their relationship that he was willing to sacrifice everything just to fix it all. Even if it meant going against her will, he was going to make sure that she was safe.

"Yeah, I figured I'd get that response." Bentley said, a touch of annoyance in her tone. Then she turned to Frances. "Make sure he says put, alright?"

"I'll try," they replied.

"Thank you,"

At this, Bentley took a long look at the center of the array. Despite the fact that her body language was as loose and carefree as ever, Atticus could tell that she was on edge. She wasn't concerned about her own well-being of course, she never was. It was more likely that she was thinking about all the demons in Hell that were facing such a large threat. —That, or she really wasn't satisfied with Atticus' reply to her demand. Either way, a familiar twinge of regretful admiration resounded in Atticus heart as he gazed at her.